For days I have thought about writing here. Anything to relieve the ennui. Anything to keep my brain from working.
So, here I am without my brilliant thoughts.
They're all gone.
They went away with the wind. Or sleep. Or atrophy. Something. All the three great topics I wanted to write about. Vanished.
I think one was going to be about the end of life. Mine. Like how I realize that I am not going to last much longer...you know. Bones creaking. Getting forgetful. Aches and pains. Troubles in the world where I am not sure I want to see to the finish. Those kind of things.
I worry about dying. I worry about not waking up one morning and everything being black because I am not in my head or body any more. I wonder if I will look at my body and wonder what was going on, or especially where I was going.
Yeah. That makes me think.
Where am I going?
I don't particularly like dirt.
I could be glib and say "Take a Xanax," but the truth is, I feel exactly the same way. Vulnerable, afraid to go to sleep for fear of not waking up, fearful for those around me who are not well. Some of it is aging, as you say, but it's also the Age of COVID . . . wearing on us, fretting at us, one more worrisome burden none of us deserve. When it gets really bad, I watch Ab Fab reruns. "Women of a certain age" like many of us might not be invincible, but those two sure give it a try.
ReplyDeleteMake it to spring, bestie, and I promise you will feel better. I've also been in a malaise with covid, and health, and world conditions,and - on top of it all - grey and cold winter. It's too much. Spring and blue skies ahead. The rest will still be there but cherry blossoms always seem to make everything better.
ReplyDeleteIrene, I'd tell you not to think about it but i know better. After I had tghe tia's I realized there is nothing I can do about certain things in life. So I am trying to enjoy wgat I can for as long as I can.I know it may not work for everyone but it doesn't hurt to think about it.
ReplyDeleteIrene, hold on.
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